


How to Say "I Love You" Without Saying "I Love You"

by stardustandswimmingpools



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 100 Ways to Say I Love You Writing Challenge, 5+1 Things, A lot of blushing, BLUSHERINO, Blushing, Cute, Cute Kids, Dorks in Love, EVERYONE IS BLUSHING THEY ARE BLUSHY BLUSHY BLUSHERS SO MUCH BLUSHING, F/M, Fluff, GUYS YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS GOING IN, School Dances, Snow Ball, Super-El, THAT DOESN'T EVEN SOUND LIKE AF UCKN WORD ANYMORE, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, anyway, i used the word 'blockhead' in this and it makes me laugh, inspired by Rosy_el's fic Three Words, one part has actual blush, pretty, read it!! it's so good, will is my little gay son try and FUCKIGN stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8592454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandswimmingpools/pseuds/stardustandswimmingpools
Summary: Mike Wheeler finds plenty of ways to tell Eleven he loves her.
(I'm sure you all heard of the list from which I drew these prompts, it's right here)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosy_el](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_el/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Three Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344693) by [Rosy_el](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_el/pseuds/Rosy_el). 



> WOW. Many many notes.  
> 1\. There is so much blushing in this fic. Seriously. It's gross.  
> 2\. Dustin calls El a superhero all the time confirmed  
> 3\. Lucas calls Dustin a blockhead and it never fails to make me laugh  
> 4\. I've never seen Top Gun, I'm sure it's amazing  
> 5\. Mike has this whole psychological-effect-of-makeup concept in his mind because it's the concept I have in my mind. I don't mind makeup tho y'all wear what you want as long as it makes you happy  
> 6\. #4 of these lil ficlet things is actually much longer than the others, it's over 1k, sorry, I got carried away  
> 7\. Mike definitely knows a shit ton about makeup okay  
> 8\. Will is gay and his boyfriend is an OC named Javier because ~diversity matters~  
> 9\. In the +1 ficlet thing, there references to a couple of slurs: the q slur and the f slur, and a reference also to someone telling someone to kill themself. PLEASE stay safe.  
> 10\. Lowkey sibling goals
> 
> This fic is highly inspired by @Rosy_el's fic [Three Words](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8344693), which is super good and cute!
> 
> Whew, that's it! Please enjoy and hmu with some comments bc I worked hard for this!

**_1\. Here, take my jacket. It's cold outside._ **

“Bye, Nancy,” El said primly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Nancy said, and smiled. “You’re making good progress, El. See you tomorrow!”

El glowed at the praise and took the steps one by one to the bottom. She trudged reluctantly toward the front door. It was cold out, but she had to bike home, because Joyce insisted that as long as it wasn’t snowing, El needed “some meat on those bones”, which she had been told meant she needed to exercise more.

“El! Hey, El,” Mike said, springing up from the chair he’d been occupying at the dining room table when he saw her. As if he hadn’t been waiting there for an hour while Nancy and El studied; rereading the same comic book over and over and tapping his fingers restlessly on the wooden tabletop.

El brightened when she saw him. “Hi, Mike,” she said, walking over to him. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine, I’m good,” Mike said. “How did your studying go?”

Nancy never let Mike join in on these study sessions, even when he swore he really needed to study because he had a science test the following day. “We all know you’re going to ace that test, study or not,” Nancy had said. “Keep your hormones in check, Mike.” Upon which Mike had smacked her with a pillow. Because of this, Mike tried to elongate his brief conversations with El as she left their house almost every day.

“It was good,” El said. “We learned about planets.”

“Really? Neat. I love the solar system,” Mike enthused. Then he scratched his neck and coughed. “Uh, I mean...did you think it was cool?”

El nodded. “And pretty,” she added. “I like Neptune.”

_ She’s like an angel from heaven _ , Mike thought. “Are you biking home again?”

A more downcast bob of the head. “Yeah,” El said dejectedly.

Mike noticed that her arms were bare. Had she forgotten a sweater? The girl was going to freeze biking back to the Byer house. Without really thinking, Mike shrugged his coat off of his shoulders. “Here, take my jacket. It’s cold outside. You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

He held it out to her, blushing, and she took it and slowly put it on. “Thank you, Mike,” she said softly.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered. Her gaze was intense. “It’s no big deal.”

Before she went to bed that night, El put the jacket under her pillow. She could almost feel him settling in for the night too.

 

**_2\. No reason._ **

El understood that on your birthday you got presents. You also got presents on holidays — some of them, at least. The happy ones. Presents were a way of saying, “This day is special and I want you to be happy on it so I got you something I think you’ll like.”

But today wasn’t a holiday. So when Mike stopped her just before she went into her house after school and sad, “Wait a sec, El, I have something I want to give you,” El was sufficiently confused.

“A present?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“Kind of,” Mike said as he dismounted his bike. He withdrew from his backpack a comic book. “This is called  _ X-Men _ . you’ve probably heard me or Dustin or someone talking about it. It’s about these mutants with superpowers. They fight bad guys and save the world a lot.”

“For me?” El said uncertainly.

A rosy blush dusted Mike’s cheeks. His freckles stood out. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I thought you might like it. It’s different from some of the other comic books I have.”

“Why?” El asked as she cautiously took the comic book in her hands. It was in good condition, and a small circular sticker pasted on the front announced the price of two quarters.

She could have been asking why this comic book was different, but Mike knew it wasn’t that. She was asking why he’d gotten her a present, in the middle of the week, on a random Wednesday. It was a good question.

Mike scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, no reason,” he mumbled. “We were at the comic book store yesterday and I saw this one, and I thought of —” He seemed to think of a better sentence midway through his first one, and broke off abruptly. “I mean, it reminded me of...you know. Your powers. You’re kind of like them. The X-Men, I mean.”

“Are they…” El struggled to remember the word. Dustin said it a lot about her. “Superheroes?” she recalled.

“Yeah, superheroes. They're awesome, trust me,” Mike said eagerly, and grinned. “And it's new, so it's in mint condition. Maybe you could start collecting them, like me and Will and Dustin and Lucas. If you want to, I mean.”

“Mike,” El interrupted. “Am I...a superhero?” She had the crazy mind powers, but she didn't feel like she had ever saved the world or fought any bad guys — except the small town of Hawkins and the Demogorgon — and wasn't that what superheroes did?

Mike chuckled. “Huh, I guess so. How cool is that? I'm friends with a superhero!”

El giggled. “Super-El,” she tried, and Mike’s smile grew wider.

“Super-El,” he repeated. “Now all you need is a cape.”

“Cape?”

“It's what a lot of superheroes wear — like a long flowy blanket on their back, kind of. It's supposed to make it easier for them to fly, but usually it's just inconvenient. Like this.” Mike tied his jacket sleeves around his neck and turned around. “See? Cape.”

El wondered how she would look with a cape. Probably silly.

“El! Mom’s wondering where you went, come inside!” Will called, poking his head out the door. El looked over at the door.

“Coming!” she promised, and looked back at Mike. His cheeks were redder than usual.

“I better get home,” he said quickly. “See you tomorrow, El.”

He jumped on his bike and pedaled away. “Thank you, Mike,” El murmured to the wind and his back.

She read the comic book twice that night and she still didn't understand it much, but she strangely loved it.

 

**_3\. What do you want to watch?_ **

“It’s my turn to pick the movie! Lucas always picks!”

“Shut up, blockhead! My movie taste is better than yours and you know it!”

“Is not!”

“Last time you chose, you made us watch  _ Grease _ , Dustin!”

“Hey, that is an amazing movie!”

“Guys, shut up, both of you!” Mike yelled, and Dustin and Lucas glared at each other, but they fell silent.

“Thank you,” he said, exasperated. “Now let Will talk, he’s been trying to say something for the past minute.”

All four pairs of eyes in the room turned to Will, who shrugged and said, “It wasn’t anything important. You guys can keep bickering. I was gonna suggest  _ Ghostbusters _ .”

“See?  _ That _ is a good suggestion,” Lucas said defiantly to Dustin.

“Right, because  _ Top Gun  _ is  _ so  _ much better than  _ Grease _ ,” Dustin retorted.

“It is!” Lucas exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

The bickering fired up again, and Mike sighed resignedly, prepared to just put up with it — they did this almost every week and he was mostly used to the headaches by now — until he saw El. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her lips moved incomprehensibly, as if whispering a message with no sound. Mike knew that look. The loud and inconsistent noise was overwhelming. He figured she was reciting something to herself, though what, he had no clue.

“Seriously, you two, cut it out!” Mike nudged Lucas sharply (in the middle of the very valid point of “Well, you’re a stupid little shithead!”) and grabbed Dustin’s arm and both of them stared at him.

“Wow, Mike brings out the big guns,” Will commented. He was almost smiling.

“Ouch, man,” Lucas muttered.

“You deserved that,” Dustin whispered. Mike smacked his shoulder. “Ow!”

“ _ Neither _ of you are picking the movie,” he said sternly. “Lucas picked last week, Will did the week before, I was before Will, and Dustin was before me. So,” he said loudly, holding a hand up as Dustin began to argue that didn’t that mean it was  _ his  _ turn?, “El’s gonna pick this week. Got it?”

El looked up at him with wide eyes that shone brightly at the mention of her name. She liked being included in these things. “Me?” she said, surprised.

Lucas and Dustin smirked and snickered in the background, and Mike ignored them. “Yeah. What do you want to watch?”

“Your wedding tapes?” Lucas suggested. Dustin burst out laughing. Even Will grinned. Mike just blushed.

In the end, El picked  _ Star Wars _ , and no one had any complaints. Least of all Mike, because every startling part in the film led El to grab his hand, and by the end she was asleep, dozing on his shoulder. Mike glared at Dustin as he snapped a picture and Lucas made kissy faces.

“That’s going in your wedding collage,” Will whispered to him. Devious little bastards.

It was worth it, though.

 

**_4\. It brings out your eyes._ **

El knocked timidly on the doorframe of Mike’s bedroom. She'd seen her mom do this several times to Will. “People knock to let the person inside the room know that they're there,” Joyce had told her.

Mike looked up from his book, a bit disgruntled, but when he saw it was her he set it aside. “Oh, hi, El,” he said. “Did you need something?”

El took this as an invitation to enter Mike’s room, and Mike suddenly seemed very on edge, casting his eyes around the room anxiously and averting his eyes from her. She hadn’t been in here very much. They usually hung out in the basement.

“Nancy gave me some of her old makeup,” she told Mike. He scrunched his nose. She didn't quite catch on to his aversion to it, and continued. “Will you help me?”

“Why can’t Nancy?” Mike asked ambiguously. He didn’t like the concept of makeup: he understood the psychological effect it had in a way that only made sense in his mind, that when someone wore makeup they looked better, more put together, prettier; and as a result, every time they appeared without makeup thereafter they wouldn’t look as good. It was hard to believe this effect could work on someone as glowing and luminous and beautiful as El, but still. “Aren’t you two supposed to be studying?” He glanced at the clock.

“We finished,” El explained in her short manner. “She left.”

“Can’t you just…” He was prepared to wiggle out of this one, but one look at her puppy dog eyes and he groaned and muttered, “Fine, fine. But I’m terrible at this stuff. I don’t know what any of it does.”

He slid off of his bed and trailed after El to Nancy’s room to retrieve the small bag of makeup that now belonged to her. “I liked it when you did it when we snuck into your school,” she said quietly.

Mike swallowed. “Yeah, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I was making it up.”

“Isn’t that why it’s called makeup?” El wondered aloud. Mike wanted to laugh, but she sounded genuine, so he just bit back a chuckle.

“No, well — well...I think it’s more like you’re making up a new face,” he said. Honestly, he had no idea why makeup was called makeup. A lot of the time, he bullshitted the answers he gave El, but a lot of the times (this one included), his answers actually made sense. Mike led El to Nancy’s vanity. “Okay, sit,” he told her, and she obliged.

Mike rifled through the bag and took out a few things he thought looked nice or fun or cool. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he joked as he took out a big poufy brush and something that had the  _ blush _ label on the back. It was reddish-pink. Mike knew it was for cheeks.

“Smile,” he instructed, and El deferred to his expertise, a bit confused. He tapped the brush onto the powdery stuff and then brushed it on the parts of her cheeks that stood out when she smiled —  _ the apples _ , Nancy called them.

When he pulled the brush away (and noticed that El’s stiff posture relaxed considerably), she let her face return to normal, and Mike looked at her cheeks. They looked fine, if a bit too pink. Or maybe she was blushing.

“Mike?” El asked as he snapped the blush compact shut.

“Mhm?” he said distractedly, pulling out two tubes of lipstick from the bag and taking the caps off. One was a deep, velvety red, and the other was a soft, light pink. It was an obvious choice which one to use.

“What was that?” she touched her cheek lightly with her index finger and then gazed at the pink powder on her fingertip.

“Blush,” Mike said. “It makes your cheeks more pink. This stick is called lipstick. It makes your lips more pink. I guess people really like looking more pink. Here, open your mouth a little.”

El let her jaw fall open a bit and Mike spun the bottom of the rosy lipstick tube and swiped it quickly across her lips. It felt weird.

“Now do this,” he directed, and smacked his lips like Nancy always did. El mimicked his movements.

“Okay, last thing,” he said as he turned back around and rummaged once more through the bag. 

“What is it?” El prompted. Mike didn’t answer for a moment, spreading out three small palettes (he knew the word  _ palette _ because Nancy had been dropping hints about a new  _ palette _ for two weeks now because she hoped to get it for Christmas) of eyeshadow on the vanity tabletop and trying to decide which one would work best on El’s face.

“This is eyeshadow,” he finally said as he spun around to face her. “You put it on your eyelids and it’s supposed to make your eyes pretty or something. I don’t know.”

El nodded, even though she didn’t really get it, and she also didn’t know what  _ eyelids  _ were. Anyway, it seemed like Mike understood more about this makeup business than he let on.

She stayed dutifully quiet until Mike flipped open a small compact of golden-yellowish eyeshadow and said dubiously, “I don’t exactly know how to put this on, so I’m going to use my finger. Is that okay?”

El nodded.

Mike swiped his index finger on the surface of the golden-yellow powder and then said, “Close your eyes. I’m gonna put my hand on your face now, but don’t worry.”

Another nod and El closed her eyes, stubbornly insistent on remaining still. When he touched her eye, she flinched, but stiffened and didn’t lean away as his fingers brushed her face — what was most likely her  _ eyelid _ .

It was a bit sloppy, but it was better than Mike had expected, and when he finally stepped away and she opened her big brown eyes and looked up at him expectantly, he was almost shocked into silence.

“Wow,” he managed. “It brings out your eyes.”

A crimson blush crept up his neck and over his cheeks, and El frowned. “What?”

“It — it means something that makes your eyes look extra pretty,” he mumbled.

El leaned forward, pressing her palms to the top of the vanity table as she examined herself in the mirror.

“Pretty?” she echoed. Mike had a gripping sense of  _ deja vú  _ from the last time he’d done her makeup.

“Yeah,” he said, and sighed internally. “Really pretty.”

El’s face broke into a smile.

 

**_5\. Can I have this dance?_ **

The Snow Ball was in full swing by the time Mike, El, Will and Javier arrived.

Dustin and Lucas had left earlier, but only after sufficient teasing that they had actually gone out and gotten dates to the stupid Snow Ball, and after a solid minute of telling Mike he looked like a pretty fairy princess. Will said they were just jealous. It wasn't like the ladies at Hawkins Middle were chasing after them.

Will had been asked to the Snow Ball a week before, by a very timid Javier (whom Will called Javi, and Mike secretly thought was adorable even with his relentless teasing). And Mike?

His date had been set for a year now.

The gymnasium had been transformed into a cheap winter wonderland. Fairy lights wound around the perimeter, hung up a random intervals on the wall. They cast a soft glow on the room. Cut-out snowflakes were dangling from the ceiling and the windows were decorated with gel stickers that reminisced of snow.

It was elegant, and El tugged at the hem of her sleeve. She wore a long, flowy, light blue dress that Joyce had bought for her. It was smooth and simple and she felt like she was floating.

Mike was in a suit, and he felt a little itchy and restless, but it was fine, for the most part. Besides, the discomfort had vanished when he’d seen El.

Now he scuffed his toe nervously on the hardwood floor as Will led Javier to Dustin and Lucas, who were tearing up the dance floor in the most embarrassing way possible. Mike had no intention of associating with them.

El looked around. The gym was so  _ massive  _ and looming, yet the life and joie de vivre that filled it were uplifting and spirited. She bounced on the balls of her feet to the rhythm of Bruce Springsteen belting out  _ Born in the USA _ .

The song ended and a slow song that sounded like Prince floated through the speakers. Mike watched Dustin and Lucas stop dancing, looking bummed, and then camped out by the snack table.

He turned to El, who was listening with great focus to the lyrics of the song. “El,” he said. She looked over at him, and he took a deep breath.

“Uh, can I have this dance?” He winced inwardly — it sounded kind of dumb, but El’s face lit up and she said, “Yes.”

Mike took her hand and led her to the dance floor, right on the edge where no one would really see them. “Do you know how to dance?” he asked.

“Nancy taught me,” El said sheepishly. “But you're smaller than her.”

Mike blushed. “It's the same idea. Here, you put your hands on my shoulders. Yeah, like that.”

He rested his hands loosely on her waist and they swayed gently to the slow melody. In the corner of his eye Mike saw Will and Javier, dancing together but hardly touching and at least two feet of space between them. His heart clenched. It wasn't fair that they couldn't be themselves because some people were ignorant assholes.

He refocused his attention on El. She looked enamored by the lights and the atmosphere of the room, and then she looked right at him with that same wondrous expression.

“This is the Snow Ball?” she said. The music filled Mike’s ears, but her voice, though so much like a whisper, was clear as day.

He nodded. Between them was only six inches, give or take, and El’s arms circled around his neck instead of gripping his shoulders.

“It’s...pretty,” she said deliberately, quietly. She was looking at him.

His cheeks burned scarlet right to tips of his ears.

“I guess,” he allowed. It  _ was _ pretty, in a cheesy-middle-school-dance sort of way. Of course El, who had only ever seen the insides of the lab from which she came and the same four houses on a loop, would find this hastily-made-up-room  _ pretty _ .

Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “You look pretty. Also.” He resisted the urge to brush it off by adding  _ good _ , like the first time.

Under the light, El’s blushing cheeks made her face glow.

* * *

**_\+ 1:_   _You’re important too._**

Mike didn't like to let the bullies at school get to him. He knew they were wrong, that they had bricks for brains and that they were the biggest mouthbreathers around. Still, sometimes it just felt so _rough._ He never even provoked them — they just came up to him and started harassing him.

It was easier when Dustin and Lucas and Will were there to have his back, or on the rare occasion where El was present to scare them off. Only today it happened in a class he didn't have with any friends. And by the time he got home, Mike felt worse than ever.

Nancy intercepted him as he passed by her room to shut himself in his. He didn't even check to see if El was there. He didn't want her to see him like this, unraveled and depressed. But Nancy always knew.

“Hey,” she greeted him, and when he barely lifted a finger to wave, she said it again. “ _ Hey. _ Mike.”

“Yes?” He said it shortly. Hopefully she would get the message that he didn't feel like talking.

“I left some of my books at school and I need them to study with El, so I'm gonna run over there and get them. Will you keep an eye on her? Just for a bit.”

Of all days to pick to let him hang out with El, naturally she’d chosen the one day he didn't want to. He was all set to decline, but then Nancy was running down the stairs and calling out “Thanks, little brother!” and he realized she wasn't asking.

With a resigned sigh, he plastered on a smile and walked into Nancy's room. El was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a book open in her lap. At the sound of the door, she closed it and looked up. She didn't seem surprised to see him.

“Hi, Mike,” she said happily, always delighted to see his face.

“Hi,” Mike said as cheerfully as he could muster. El would always make him feel a bit better just by being around, but he remembered the events of his P.E. class and had to fight to keep the smile on his face.

Immediately, El frowned. “Mike, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?” He was so surprised at her observational skills he forgot not to sound bitter, and even chuckled mirthlessly at the end of his sentence.

“Mike,” she said gently, and Mike  _ knew  _ what she was going to say, could feel it, even before she spoke. “Friends don’t lie.”

Mike wanted to kick his past self for teaching her that. Of course it was true, and it was a good foundation upon which to build friendship — friends  _ shouldn’t _ lie, but sometimes it was just so much easier.

He groaned. “Can't argue with that,” he said under his breath. “Look, I just had a bad day. Troy and his dumb friends were being mean again. Only it was in gym, and none of the other guys are in that class.” He deliberately averted his eyes from hers. “It’s dumb. They just suck, and they suck more when they target you alone.”

“What did they say?” El asked, and Mike breathed a laugh.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he said. Bitterness seeped into his voice before he could try to filter it out. “Let’s see… Queer, half-brains, forever alone, fag, no one will love me, not important, might as well kill myself —”

“Mike!” El looked panicky. “You aren't any of that.”

“Well, I know they're just dumb boys, but think about it,” Mike countered diplomatically, as if this was a topic that needed to be debated extensively. “Am I important? I haven't done anything significant, or made an impact on anyone's life except the guys and — and you, I guess.  _ You’re  _ important,” he added. “You saved Hawkins and probably the whole world. But me?”

“Mike,” El said, her voice stronger and more confident than Mike has ever heard it. She grabbed his wrists and forced him to look at her. “You're important too. To your friends. And family. And me. You saved my life. Get it?”

It was a lot of bold words for someone as soft-spoken as El, and it stunned Mike into silence. He looked down at her hands, encircling his thin wrists. He could feel the gloom lifting from his shoulders like fog clearing up after rain. “Yeah, I get it,” he conceded. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad for me.”

“Friends help friends,” El said seriously, and then a small smile grew on her lips.

He shook his head, but he was smiling. “Yeah, they do. Thanks, El.”

Conveniently, Nancy chose that moment to walk back in. It was only the following day that it occurred to Mike that she hadn’t left her books.

Sisters always knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh thank you for reading this. I hope you liked it it was fun to write :D you can msg me [@vivilevone](vivilevone.tumblr.com) or [@justcuzfandoms](justcuzfandoms.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and yell at me about Stranger Things or just about anything else, and with that, til next time!


End file.
